


I Might Just Learn To Love You

by theianitor



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, Mafia AU, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8052622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theianitor/pseuds/theianitor
Summary: Fernando had accepted that he would marry as soon as he came of age, but as it inevitably drew closer he found himself hating the idea. He was okay with learning the business but he didn’t want to get married. He certainly didn’t want to be stuck with this bastard.(Inspired by "Brotherhood")





	I Might Just Learn To Love You

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Brotherhood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6375082) by [montecarlos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos), [princessrosberg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessrosberg/pseuds/princessrosberg). 



> So last night I re-read "Brotherhood" and got a bit inspired. Being me, I love slightly psycho!Jenson and the bits with Fernando, and... well, this happened.  
> Forget everything you know about their ages!  
> The brief guide to the relationships is that Fernando and Jenson are married, Carlos is their son. Alex is Jenson's younger brother. Mitch is the son of Sebastian and Mark.

Jenson looked around the room, taking in the bed, the desk, the door out to the balcony. Fernando sat down in his armchair, keeping an eye on the English boy who was now surveying the books in his bookshelf, running his finger over the spines. He was kind of handsome and seemed more relaxed now that they were away from their parents and the other people downstairs. He had set his glass down as soon as they entered the room and Fernando noticed that it didn’t look like he had taken more than a sip.

“I thought your father wanted you to marry Rosberg,” Fernando said, deciding to skip the small talk and go directly for the subjects he was curious about. He had done some digging, discretely finding out as much as he could about the young man his father had chosen for him. They had met before but always under official circumstances where etiquette and protocol was strictly observed. They had never had any time to really get to know each other.

“Nico?” Jenson laughed. “No, Keke would kill me rather than let me so much as look at his precious little prince. He’s not too keen on anyone connected to the Firm at the moment. Bit sad, but that’s life.” He walked back towards Fernando, picking up his glass on the way.

Fernando nodded thoughtfully.

“What about Sebastian? The Bratva?”

The look in the Brit’s eyes changed, turned darker, harder.

“Are we going to go through all my other potential suitors before you’re happy? Because if you’re trying to get out of this, you can’t.” His voice lowered and he took another sip of his drink. “Trust me, I’ve fucking tried.”

“Am not trying to get out,” Fernando shrugged, “just like to know who you are. Where you have been.” He let Jenson see his smirk and his little roll of the eyes on purpose. Not a second later Jenson was on top of him and their faces were barely an inch apart. He was smiling, his eyes alight. Fernando dropped his glass in surprise and it broke when it hit the floor.

“I’m Jenson Button, and I might not be as important or glamorous as the Galega heir but my standing in the Firm is indisputable.” He ran his hand through Fernando’s hair and the Spaniard was too stunned to do anything about it.

“I like dark beer, fast cars, and faster brunettes. I’ve been told I have quite the gift when it comes to handling bats,” his hand slid down to cup Fernando through his trousers. “... and other sticks.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“As for the Bratva heir he’s a sweetheart, but a bit young for marriage. More importantly his daddies already have their hearts set on giving their sweet little son to someone from the commonwealth, and I’m not that common.” He leaned in even closer and whispered in Fernando’s ear.

“Does the name Mark Webber sound familiar?”

 

Fernando looked at Jenson’s grinning face for a second before he found his strength. He pushed against the Brit’s shoulders and stood up from the armchair, causing Jenson to topple off and land on his arse. Fernando pinned him to the floor, their faces as close as before but the Spaniard was breathing hard and his eyes were full of rage.

“You do not speak of him in front of me.”

“Nice to know where I stand, at least,” Jenson said, still smiling. Fernando wanted to punch him in the face. “Nice to see you have some fight.”

“I could fucking kill you,” Fernando snarled.

“But you won’t, because I’m perfect for you.”

“Are a smug egotistical asshole.” Fernando couldn’t understand why Jenson was still smirking at him.

“... who is completely willing to be a convenient husband to you. We both know they’ve already decided that bit for us so let’s not make it any worse than it needs to be. You wanna go chasing after the Aussie bastard, be my guest. I just want two things from all this.”

Fernando was still holding Jenson down, his nostrils flaring and the anger still burning in his eyes.

“Two things?” he hissed. “You want two things from _me_ for getting married?” He squeezed his wrists down even harder. Flavio had told him when he was little that he would be getting married as soon as he came of age and Fernando had accepted it, but as it inevitably drew closer he found himself hating the idea. He was okay with learning the business, being groomed to take over one day, but he didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want an arranged marriage, he didn’t want to get tied to someone for the sake of the Galega, and he certainly didn’t want to be stuck with this prick.

“Two things.” Despite Fernando’s hold on him, he raised two fingers. “One, any freedom you get, I get too. And two, always be honest with me.”

Fernando eased his grip on Jenson’s wrists, sitting up a little. It wasn’t what he had been expecting.

“You... you would not care?”

“Not at all,” Jenson was still smiling and Fernando realized he hadn’t struggled one bit from the time he had been pinned down. “Keep it discrete and I don’t give a shit who you fuck, I don’t care where you sleep... as long as you’re honest, and let me play just as much as you do.”

 

\--

 

They agreed to keep the complaints about getting married to a minimum. Over the next few months they did what was required of them; they helped plan for the occasion, wore the suits, recited vows to each other, had champagne and smiled for pictures. On their wedding night they fell into bed together. Fernando had expected it to happen, they were _supposed_ to have sex, consummate the marriage... but he was surprised to find himself both actually wanting it and enjoying it.

 

“I could learn to live with that,” Jenson said with an appreciative grin, stretching out on the bed and reaching for the champagne he had brought to their room. He seemed comfortable with being naked, utterly relaxed and completely unconcerned that they had just had sex. Fernando felt himself relaxing too; it was a pleasant change to not have to be on edge, not have to bother so much with appearances.

Jenson took the bottle and got up. He found his suit jacket on the floor and dug two cigars out of the pocket.

“Dad gave me these,” he said, showing them to Fernando. “Cubans.”

He took a switchblade out of the same pocket and Fernando stared at him as he cut the ends off the cigars. He had been armed. The security at the wedding had been incredibly tight, and his new husband had been armed.

“He said there’s three important things to get done on your wedding night: bit of drinking, bit of smoking, and a whole lot of sex.”

He walked across the room and opened the doors to the balcony.

“Come on.”

Fernando had the cover over himself and looked for his pants from the bed.

“You’re not thinking about getting dressed, are you?” Jenson asked. It sounded like he was trying to not laugh. “Fuck’s sake, we’re _married_. I certainly hope it’s not the last time you’re gonna let me see you naked! Come on!”

Hesitantly, Fernando followed him. The city was spread out below them, all twinkling lights in the dark blue summer night. Jenson lit one of the cigars and gave it to him before lighting his own. The thick, white smoke billowed away slowly in the breeze and neither spoke for a while. Jenson seemed quite content and Fernando took the opportunity to just look at him. He had to admit he looked... nice.

As if he had felt his eyes on him Jenson flexed his back, causing the tattoo on his shoulder blade to move. It wasn’t until then Fernando realized there was a scar in the middle of it, a slightly raised bump of shiny white hidden in the lines of black. Without thinking he reached out and touched it. Jenson shivered but didn’t move away.

“What happened?” Fernando asked. Jenson didn’t look at him.

“Got shot. I wouldn’t recommend it.” There was a coldness to his voice that Fernando hadn’t heard before. He felt strangely affected, like he wanted to make it better. The Galega always took revenge on those that attacked them, and for an offence like this...

“Who did it?”

Now Jenson turned toward him, leaning back against the railing of the balcony.

“I’ll tell you all about it some time,” he said after giving Fernando a searching look. He flicked the last of his cigar out into the night air and took a swig out of the bottle.

“Just like you can tell me about these.” He moved closer and ran his finger along two smaller scars on Fernando’s arm and then traced the longer scar on his chest. Handing the bottle over he sank to his knees and kissed the scar on Fernando’s hip, making him gasp.

“I hope whoever gave you these has paid for it,” he murmured, his lips moving against Fernando’s skin. Fernando had to focus on not dropping the bottle as a warm hand stroked up his thigh, his _husband_ trailing kisses from his hip toward his already stirring cock. He only realized he was still holding his cigar when it had smoldered down so far it started to burn his fingers. He threw it away and stroked Jenson’s hair with a shaky hand.

“D’you know why my dad said to do those things on your wedding night?” Jenson asked, his warm breath making Fernando twitch. He didn’t wait for an answer but kissed Fernando’s cock almost reverently.

“He said it’s important to start as you mean to go on.”

Fernando wasn’t sure what that even meant. He closed his eyes and moaned as Jenson kissed him again and again, wonderful horrible teasing little kisses that were nowhere near enough.

A second later his eyes flew open as a stream of Spanish expletives shattered the silence – there was a lady on another balcony who evidently took offense to him being naked. He was just about to apologize when Jenson stood up, revealing both that Fernando was not only not alone, but also not the only naked man on the balcony. The lady’s mouth hung open but no more words came out.

“Will you shut the fuck up?!” Jenson shouted, pointing at the lady who was still just staring at them, dumbfounded. “I just got married, if I want to suck my husband’s cock, I fucking will!”

Fernando rather thought he must look as stunned as the lady on the other balcony. When he thought back on it in later years though he found it very fitting, considering what Jenson’s father had told him. They had indeed started as they meant to go on – there was drinking and luxuries, a lot of sex, as well as the hint of violence that permeated their world, and the scars they both had to show for it.

That night Fernando finally realized what it meant when it felt like you were the only two people in the world too. Jenson made him feel important and special, and he wanted to return that feeling as best he could. It wasn’t love, not back then, but there was definite respect and caring – albeit expressed in the slightly clumsy and clueless way of two young men more or less playing at being adults.

 

\--

 

During their first months of marriage Fernando mostly observed Jenson. He was pleasant and polite, shook hands and played nice with everyone he was introduced to in the many official get-togethers they had to attend as a newlywed couple. With his friends he was slightly more crude, but funny and flirty. In private he was relaxed and outspoken. They fell into a routine of going about their business during the day and sleeping together at night, getting used to each other’s presence, learning to trust.

 

Maybe he finally did it to test him. Fernando wasn’t all that interested in the leggy model who didn’t care about the gold band around his finger, but he still played along. He bedded her, the act more a mechanical meeting of bodies than anything remotely tender, and came home the next morning to tell his husband. Jenson didn’t even blink.

“Was it any good?”

Fernando shrugged. Jenson walked over to him and ran his hands through his hair.

“Why would you bother fucking someone who isn’t going to treat you right?” he purred, leaning down to nip at Fernando’s jaw. “If you’re going to fuck other people, I expect you to come home on shaky legs looking like you’ve at least gotten a decent seeing to.”

He pressed in close and kissed Fernando hard, forcing his tongue into his mouth and making him tilt his head back.

“Tell me about her.” Jenson slid down to his knees and Fernando didn’t know what to think. When his husband started unbuttoning his pants he looked down at him in shock.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to entertain myself while you tell me about the girl you fucked.”

It was probably the most bizarre thing that had ever happened to him. Jenson got him hard and started sucking his cock, stopping now and then to ask questions about Fernando’s night. He asked about the girl; her name, what Fernando knew about her, where had they met, what had they said... he asked about the sex and Fernando was embarrassed to admit it was mediocre at best, all the while coming apart under Jenson’s oral ministrations.

He soon had to amend his list of bizarre experiences though; only a week later he saw the same girl again. When they went out together he and Jenson usually ended up in their separate circles, meeting up now and then to check on each other, and so Fernando only saw from a distance that Jenson was flirting mercilessly with the model – and she was lapping it up. He didn’t know how to feel about it. He was even more unsure of how to feel when Jenson returned after a brief absence, discretely adjusting his clothes and informing him that the model was not worth the time “even as a bit on the side”.

“You can definitely do better, if you’re looking to get your dick wet,” he said with a broad grin. That night when they got home Jenson literally fucked him senseless, giving him more and more until it was too much and he wasn’t sure if he was begging for it to stop or continue forever. Sweaty and sated he fell asleep in his husband’s arms, not entirely sure what had even happened.

 

\--

 

Throughout their years together he only rarely strayed from their marital bed. He and Jenson grew closer, learned to trust each other completely. While Fernando was always more focused on the business side, Jenson was a people-person who enjoyed keeping tabs on friends and foes alike. He also had an aptitude for the kind of cruel violence that worked very well when setting examples. As a couple they were a powerful force and Fernando had to admit that while he might never have chosen Jenson as a partner for himself, he was very happy to have him by his side.

 

\--

 

Everything was fine until he met Dasha. They met at Fernando’s cousin’s wedding and talked a fair bit throughout the evening. She was beautiful, a model, and had no interest in the Galega or the Bratva – she wanted no part of that world despite being born into it. As a woman she had an easier time staying away; the business had already claimed her older brother’s life and her younger brother, who left the table under mumbled complaints only after she ordered him to, wore the Bratva uniform proudly.

It wasn’t like any of the one-night stands he’d had before. They didn’t sleep together the first time they met. Instead they got to know each other better during something almost like dates, meeting for dinners and at functions. It wasn’t until they actually did sleep together that Fernando realized he hadn’t even mentioned her to Jenson. It made him feel strangely guilty, and so he didn’t say anything then either. He and Dasha kept seeing each other. Jenson never questioned where he sometimes spent the night, and Fernando never told him.

One night he was in his study when Jenson came inside without knocking. Fernando looked up and smiled at him before returning to the papers in front of him.

“You never told me about Dasha.” He said it so casually Fernando almost missed the significance of it. It took him a few seconds to register what Jenson had said and then he swiveled around in his chair and really looked at him. He was wearing a suit but even against the dark cloth Fernando could tell there were splashes of something on him, speckled stains that suddenly seemed to stand out clearly.

“What did you say?”

Jenson came closer and Fernando realized he was holding a bat, swinging it back and forth a little. The bat was covered in sticky red, ranging from light spatter to a dark crimson mess, like he had dipped it in paint, only Fernando was very aware that this was not paint.

“You didn’t tell me about Dasha,” Jenson said coolly, tapping the bat against his shoe.

“What did you do?” Fernando asked, his voice quivering. He stood up slowly, his eyes still on the bat.

“You didn’t tell me about Dasha.” His voice was accusing this time. Fernando realized that not only did Jenson know about Dasha, he...

“What the fuck did you do?!” His voice broke and he wasn’t sure if he felt more like snatching the bat out of Jenson’s hands and beating him until he got tired of it, or just breaking down crying.

“You didn’t fucking tell me about fucking Dasha!” Jenson yelled back at him, throwing the bat to the floor. There was a crack as it dented the wood, the blood not wet enough to stain as it clattered away. Fernando’s eyes finally fell on his husband, who was standing right in front of him looking positively enraged.

“I told you all I want is fucking honesty!”

“Did you... you...” Fernando couldn’t believe it.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

Fernando’s mind immediately gave him a horrible image of Dasha, beaten and broken, her beautiful face destroyed, her hair spread out in a pool of her own blood. Dead. He didn’t know he had fallen to his knees until Jenson’s legs were right in front of him. He looked up with tears in his eyes. If this was how it ended he would almost be fine with that. It was hard to breathe, a strange mix of guilt and grief constricting his throat.

“Do you love her?” He almost sounded hurt, the anger in his eyes replaced with something like pain. Fernando tried to find his voice but couldn’t, and he couldn’t look away.

“Call her.” Jenson grabbed Fernando’s phone off the desk and held it out to him. He took it with shaky hands.

“Call her!” The shouted words made Fernando flinch, looking from the phone in his hands to his husband and back again. Jenson looked at him for a moment, breathing hard with his fists clenched, before he walked towards the door.

“I didn’t kill your precious fucking girlfriend,” he spat. “I bashed the little Bratva rat who’s been tailing you the last few times you’ve been with her. You didn’t even know, did you? No security, nothing. Just thinking with your cock.” He left the room, slamming the door shut.

Fernando had taken a few deep breaths, still not sure what to think, still thinking there was a chance Dasha was gone. When she answered the phone he was relieved, but then he heard how surprised she sounded to hear his voice.

“Where are you baby?” she sounded strained, like she was working hard to keep her voice level. He didn’t say anything, he just hung up and then sat there on the floor, trying to think but his thoughts felt slippery.

She wasn’t part of the families. She had no part in their business. At least that was what she had said... but she was still connected to the Bratva. Her brother had already started rising up the ranks so it wasn’t even much of a stretch to think he might have volunteered to protect his sister’s honor.

 

When he had gathered his thoughts he got up and went out into the hallway. The house was eerily quiet and there were no clues as to where Jenson might have gone. Fernando made his way to their bedroom, walking softly and opening the door without making a sound. He found his husband sitting on the floor with his back against their bed. He looked tired. He had taken off his bloody clothes but he hadn’t showered; there were spots of dark red standing out against his pale skin. Fernando slowly sat down next to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his voice down.

“I just... why don’t you trust me?” Jenson was rubbing a spot on his wrist. “I asked you to be honest, that’s all I want.”

“I’m sorry,” Fernando repeated. He meant it.

“You could have gotten yourself killed over... over nothing.” He wiped his eyes angrily and finally looked at Fernando. “I can’t lose you.”

Fernando couldn’t say anything. He touched Jenson gently and when he seemed to lean in to the touch he pulled him close, gathering him up in his arms and just holding him. He wanted to say he was sorry, however many times it would take for Jenson to believe him.

 

\--

 

It took them a while to get back to how it had been before, but Fernando promised himself to never lie to his husband again. The trouble with other establishments was ever-present and from experience they now both had their backs up especially when it came to the Bratva. He did everything he could to prove to Jenson that he trusted him, and by this point he could honestly say that he loved him.

 

Jenson knew there were already plans in motion for his younger brother Alex to eventually step up in the top circles of the Firm. Jenson more or less “marrying out” had put more pressure on him and Fernando knew Jenson was trying to support the boy as much as possible.

By the time little Carlos arrived Alex was living with them full time. He thought caring for Alex so much had actually prepared them well for having a child of their own. Alex laughed at the way Fernando and Jenson argued over what to name the new baby and could often be found in the afternoons sitting near the crib, telling Carlos about his day, making up stories with his stuffed animals.

Everyone told them how much Carlos looked like Fernando and he was proud; this was his son, the heir to what he had helped build. He loved watching Jenson with their son, the way his eyes lit up when he cooed and baby-talked, the way he was so gentle and careful in every movement around their little baby boy... it was love.

 

Fernando came back from a business meeting one day to find Jenson cursing at his little brother like he had never heard before. Alex was in tears, apologizing and trying to get Jenson to calm down. When he spotted Fernando he looked terrified.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please Fernando I didn’t know, I...”

“What happened?”

“I...” Alex started. Fernando could see he was trying to stand up straight and not cry, trying to act like a man, but he was afraid and in that moment he was nothing but a little boy.

“Tell him what you did,” Jenson said, crossing his arms. “Tell him what you did, because I sure as shit am not going to do it.”

Alex stuttered his way through explaining that he had had a friend over, a boy he had gotten to know in the last few months, that he had brought him over to play video games. Fernando’s sense of dread grew steadily. Alex knew he couldn’t have friends over, that he couldn’t go to anyone else’s house without escort, but apparently he had wanted to impress this boy.

“... and we were just saying hello to Carlos and Jense came in and he... he grabbed him and threw him against the wall and...”

“... wait, Carlos?” He couldn’t make sense of what Alex was saying and by now the little boy was sobbing uncontrollably.

“No. Mitch. Little Mitchell Evans.” Jenson had watched in silence as Alex talked but now he spoke again. Fernando was still confused.

“Remember when I told you the Bratva prince was a little young for marriage? Little Mitch doesn’t share his father’s name but...”

“Mark has a son?” Fernando’s voice was a menacing whisper.

“Mark has a son,” Jenson confirmed. “A son about the same age as Alex.”

“Where is Carlos?”

“He’s safe, don’t worry. I sent Mitch home with a firm warning to stay the fuck away from us. Knowing his dad, we won’t see him again.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I just...” Alex said, desperately pleading with Fernando. He wanted to be angry, he really did, but their son was safe and Alex would never repeat such a mistake. He unclenched his fist, laying a firm hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“Is okay, Alex.”

“I’ll never... never ever.”

 

That evening Fernando went looking for Jenson. After they had all calmed down they had tried to explain to Alex why his safety was so important and why he had to be more careful with his choice of friends. While Alex had understood before that theirs wasn’t a typical family, that not everyone was being taught how to use a firearm by the time they were seven years old, he had never broken the rules before. He seemed determined to never do so again. Fernando just wanted to relax now, with the knowledge that his husband and his son were safe.

He heard someone talking from out in the hallway and crept up to the door. Carlos’s room was next door to their bedroom and Jenson was sitting next to the crib, holding the little black-haired bundle that was their son in his arms.

“You know me and your papa are always going to do our best to keep you safe, right?” his voice was soft and Carlos gurgled happily up at him.

“I can’t promise that you’re never going to get hurt but... but I can promise that nobody will ever get away with hurting you.” The baby reached out a fat little hand and took a hold of one of Jenson’s fingers.

“You’ll learn to take care of yourself. If you’re anything like your papa you’ll have a hell of a temper,” he chuckled, “and a bite to match your bark. But if you ever need us... you know we’ll be there for you. We’re all kind of new at this but we’re doing our best, okay?” Carlos gurgled again, waving his arms around, and Jenson nodded.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll stop. Whatever you say little guy.” He stood up and kissed his son's forehead tenderly before putting him back in his crib.

Fernando knocked on the door gently and Jenson looked over, still smiling.

“Just putting the little one to bed.”

Fernando reached down and stroked his son’s cheek before turning to his husband and doing the same.

“Te amo,” he said. He meant it with all his heart.

 

\-- The End --

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much for the read - if you haven't read Brotherhood, go do that. :)  
> This was all in good fun, as usual. Comments and kudos are much loved! <3


End file.
